


the devil wears three stripes

by whitenoisce



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: AKA, Alternate Universe - Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Attempt at Humor, Chuckle Fic, Doyoung has a pretty solid filing system in Hell, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Hyuck is literally a demon, M/M, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitenoisce/pseuds/whitenoisce
Summary: “An heir can only go unescorted if they’re a virgin upon ascending the throne,” Renjun says as a matter of factly, glancing at Donghyuck from the corner of his eye. "Seeing as you have a lot of fun with your dyad of dicks on the regular, you are compelled by the rules of the Nether Realms to show up with what the mortals call, adate.”orDonghyuck's coronation to be King of Hell is in a little over 24 hours, and all eyes will be on him. Unfortunately for his advisors, he burned his ceremonial suit and has one escort too many.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 19
Kudos: 280





	the devil wears three stripes

**Author's Note:**

> **NOTES; PLEASE READ**
> 
> First, here's a [visual/moodboard](https://twitter.com/whitenoisce/status/1328203363574398978) on the boys so you know what they look like in this fic. I wrote this mostly because Donghyuck looked so much like a Demon King during the Soribada Awards, so that's pretty important!
> 
> Next, johnmarkhyuck are in a V-type polyamory with Hyuck as the hinge. This means he's dating Mark and Johnny, but Mark and Johnny are not dating each other. Well... not yet. Lmao. 
> 
> This fic was really just written for fun, so don't take it too seriously! The boys are only loosely based on the characters, and you don't really need to know anything about the show to follow the story. Just a head's up tho? _Johnny's a warlock, Hyuck's half-mortal half-demon, and Mark is purely human in this fic. Hyuck goes to mortal university with Mark, and Johnny is a prof in the Academy of Unseen Arts. Wooh!_
> 
> This fic will make light of topics like sin and demons and hell and whatever though, so if you're particularly sensitive to this kind of content then please feel free to turn back now! 
> 
> If you choose to stay, I hope you get at least a chuckle out of it!
> 
> Happy reading!

After 21 years of existence, Lee Donghyuck has come to learn that there are just some things in the world that will never cease to give you joy no matter how much life wants to drag you to hell and back. For some, it’s getting the perfect coffee brew as a little gift on shitty mornings. For others, it’s waking up to see a zit disappear overnight in time for a date with a hot warlock. 

But for Donghyuck in particular, it comes in the form of being able to hang out in Mark’s room after a long day of lectures, wheedling him on his back halfway through a supposed study session, and riding the living daylights out of him as MGMT’s Electric Feel blares out from his laptop speakers. 

“ _Oh fuck_ —” 

Donghyuck moans as he grips Mark’s shoulders harder, digging crescents into the soft skin while his eyes flutter close in mind-numbing pleasure. They’ve been at this for a while now, and it’s obvious how they’re both losing it in the way Mark’s arms wrap tightly around his middle, holding him up as he begins to fuck up into Donghyuck with erratic thrusts. 

A tremor runs through Donghyuck’s body when Mark hits him just right, and he can’t help the obscene arch of his back as he calls out Mark’s name. “Pretty,” Mark whispers, before surging in to leave a trail of wet kisses down the column of Donghyuck’s throat.

It feels like a fever dream—the sound of skin slapping almost overpowers the synths playing in the background and Donghyuck can feel his thighs start to burn from disrespecting gravity, but it’s too good he doesn’t even care. “I’m—I’m close. Right there, _please_.” 

“Yeah?” Mark leaves one last chaste kiss on Donghyuck’s lips before laying on his back, dragging a surprised Donghyuck down with him for the last stretch. 

Before Donghyuck can even brace himself, Mark plants his feet onto the bed and thrusts up harder, faster, choking a guttural moan out of Donghyuck’s lips from the intensity. _How in Satan’s name did he learn to do that?_

“Mark!” Donghyuck cries out, jaw going slack at the new pace. His limbs have given out and he’s pressed flush against Mark, just taking it. “I’m gonna—”

“That’s it, let go.” 

Donghyuck lets out a whimper before tensing up, clenching impossibly tight around Mark as he spills in between them. Amidst the tremors wracking his body, he feels Mark thrust up a couple more times before he’s coming too, groaning from the back of his throat as he spills into the condom. 

He should probably get the fuck off of Mark—if only so they can clean up and throw the condom away, but his legs are jelly and so is his mind. Mark fucked him so good that Donghyuck can only slump further into the crook of Mark’s neck, his weight crushing Mark shamelessly as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Not gonna lie,” Donghyuck breathes out, body limp across Mark’s chest. “You’re getting pretty good at this.” 

Mark lets out an indignant _hey!_ before succumbing into a fit of laughter, the hearty rumble of it sending warm tingles around Donghyuck’s body. “I wasn’t that bad, but what can I say? I did learn from the best.” 

“Hmm, you sure you didn’t make a deal with the devil?” Donghyuck teases, finally pulling himself off of Mark. He grimaces when he feels something tacky in between them as he rolls away. “I can check, you know? Doyoung’s pretty meticulous with the filing system. I bet I can find the contract in under five minutes.” 

“That is _not_ a conversation you want to be having with your brother, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck watches as Mark languidly pulls himself off the bed, throwing off the used condom before wiping them down with a couple of wet wipes. Contrary to its name, clean up is actually pretty disgusting, but Donghyuck can’t help the fond smile that blooms on his face when Mark does all the work for him unprompted.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m taking over pretty soon, huh?” Donghyuck asks, scrambling to cuddle back into Mark’s warmth as soon as he can. “I can just check for myself, because I swear that hip torque _cannot_ be human.” 

“I can assure you there’s no need to put me on trial, _Your Highness_ ,” Mark snorts. He has half the mind to pull the sheets over their naked bodies before settling back down. “Besides, I’m pretty sure there are more pressing matters that require the King of Hell’s attention when he finally ascends the throne, don’t you think?”

Donghyuck only groans in response, the dread that comes with having official, realm-bound responsibilities coming back to him at full force. 

All the preparation in time for his coronation has already been so unnecessarily stressful—what with blood rituals in unholy lands and annoying suit fittings that ruin his daily schedule. It’s bad enough as it is, but Donghyuck can only imagine just how much worse it will get when the festivities finally die down, and he’s left having to deal with all the stupid bureaucracy in hell by himself.

That—plus managing the fate of every damned soul that turns up in Pandemonium on top of worrying about his degree. Not to mention all the fucking paper work. 

Fucking hell. This is Doyoung’s job.

“Oh c’mon,” Mark says, reaching out to smoothen the crease that has formed between Donghyuck’s brows. “It won’t be that bad. Johnny will be on call for you, remember? And weren’t you looking forward to remodeling that place?”

Donghyuck sighs, tracing random shapes on the bare skin of Mark’s chest. “I guess. . .” he mutters, before looking back up at Mark with a small, deviant smile. “I’ve been meaning to add an extra circle in hell for people who stop walking right after getting off the escalators.” 

Underneath him, Mark shakes in unabashed laughter, eventually biting his bottom lip as he looks fondly at Donghyuck’s smiling face. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he says, caressing the side of Donghyuck’s face. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re real.” 

“You just like it when I’m being mean,” Donghyuck quips, smirking as he raises a brow. “To you or otherwise.” 

“That’s not true,” Mark says. “I’m stupid about you,” he presses a kiss on Donghyuck’s forehead. “All—the—damn—time,” he says, punctuating every word with a light kiss around Donghyuck’s face. 

Donghyuck can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of his throat. Whatever did he do in his past lives to deserve Mark Lee? “Kiss me properly, you sap,” he says, pulling Mark closer by the side of his face and capturing his lips in a sweet, tender kiss. 

With Chet Baker crooning faintly in the background and Mark’s soft lips on his, Donghyuck thinks to himself—this is it. This is the kind of simple joy he’s willing to be dragged to hell and back for. 

He sighs contentedly against Mark, head tilting to deepen the kiss when the music crackles for a bit and then dissolves completely into static. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, except it’s 2020 and Donghyuck has a Spotify subscription, not a transistor radio. 

The white noise can only mean one thing: there are cloven hooves on the loose. Donghyuck begrudgingly pulls away from the kiss.

“Can’t you fucking knock?” Donghyuck sits up, glaring at the vertically challenged figure that has appeared at the foot of Mark’s bed. 

Renjun only crosses his arms—leather clipboard hovering ominously by his side, and levels him with a very unimpressed look. “You wouldn’t have let me in if I did.” 

“Yeah, no shit!” Donghyuck says, “We were kind of in the middle of something here.”

Next to Donghyuck, Mark shoots an awkward wave in Renjun’s general direction, having met the demon enough times to be friendly. Usually, he’s better dressed though. 

“Congrats. Now you’re about to be in the middle of something else,” Renjun scolds, exasperation showing on his face before schooling it back to something more neutral. He sighs before continuing. “We’re already late to your final fitting, Your Highness. Please make my job easier and cooperate for once.” 

“And if I don’t?” Donghyuck asks. 

Renjun rolls his eyes. “I seriously don’t get paid enough for this—”

“You’re bound by a contract for the next millenia. You don’t get paid at all.” 

“Uh, Hyuck?” Mark chimes in suddenly, catching Donghyuck’s attention. “I think you should maybe listen to your friend? He looks like he’s going to pop a vein any second now and explode all over my room.” 

Donghyuck huffs. “But babe time!” he whines, a small pout forming on his lips. It’s not a second later when he adds, “And he’s not my friend!” 

“For once, Your Highness.” Renjun says, looking disgusted. “I think I agree.”

Mark runs his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair, laughing when they get tangled in some knots. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there tomorrow night.” He presses a small kiss on Donghyuck’s lips. “I already got my suit all dry cleaned and pressed,” and then his voice drops to a whisper. “You can ruin it for me afterwards, yeah?” 

“Are you _absolutely_ sure you didn’t sell your soul?” Donghyuck groans as he buries his face into Mark’s shoulder, embarrassed. He can’t believe he’s getting hard within a five meter radius of Renjun. That should be illegal.

“A hundred percent,” Mark chuckles, leaving a final peck to Donghyuck’s lips before pulling away. “Now get dressed and go. Meet Johnny at Nakamoto’s when you’re done, ‘kay?” 

Donghyuck sighs but relents. “Fine.” 

🔮🌙🕯

The thing is, Donghyuck has worn corsets before. It’s standard fare for the most elite members of the Nether Realms, and even more so when you’re the second son of the king. 

He basically lived his formative years in a vast collection of silk and lace, and even now, Donghyuck still has at least seven custom-made creations sitting pretty on headless mannequins in his room back in Pandemonium. 

So yeah, this is nothing new. Somehow though, he doesn’t ever remember them being this fucking tight. 

“Hey—” Donghyuck wheezes, the words dying in his throat as the air gets pushed from his lungs. “Watch it, buddy!” 

The shopkeep doesn’t falter. If anything, he begins to pull at the ribbons on his back even tighter. Donghyuck’s vision begins to dot at the edges when a clawed hand adjusts the bodice, and he tries not to think of what kind of boning they’re using that he feels knobs digging into his ribs. 

Astaroth has always had a knack for taking dress orders too literally. Donghyuck shudders. 

“I told you to work up to it,” Renjun drawls from where he’s lounging on the plush cushioned couch, no doubt enjoying his misery over a chalice of red. “You’ve spent way too much time frolicking in the Mortal Realm to remember what it’s like to be laced in Damascus steel.”

“You mean _zip ties_?” Donghyuck grits his teeth, “I can barely breathe in this thing!” 

“Fine by me,” Renjun says, smirking as he tips his cup to the sky. “Maybe it’ll teach you how to shut up.”

Donghyuck tries to cuss him out, but the effect is ruined when the shopkeep knees him above the ass, pulling at the laces one last time before tying it off at the base in a pretty bow. 

Well, it would be pretty if Donghyuck didn’t feel like passing out.

Behind him, Astaroth grumbles incoherently in a forgotten language before bowing and disappearing behind the velvet curtains. Donghyuck barely manages a nod in his direction before staggering off to the couch next to Renjun. 

Corsets are not the evil death traps that society has made them out to be, but he definitely should have braced himself for the tightlacing after living in athleisure for so long. 

“Did you ever watch Chowder?” Donghyuck asks, breathless.

“No.” Renjun scoffs, but doesn’t move when Donghyuck uses his lap as a pillow. “I don’t watch cartoons.” 

“Who said it was a cartoon?” Donghyuck asks, poking the underside of Renjun’s chin. 

Renjun refuses to meet his gaze, eyes trained on the mirror in front of them when says he has _an approximate knowledge of many things_. Donghyuck’s pretty sure that was an Adventure Time reference, but even he’s too tired to push it. 

“Whatever,” Donghyuck says, with a half-hearted roll of his eyes. “So there’s this episode, right? Chowder eats a sour puckerberry. Like, really _really_ sour that he ends up puckering himself out of existence. One second he was there, and then the next thing we know he was inside his mouth. It’s crazy. The whole episode was actually narrated by his wisdom tooth, and then he had to save his taste buds by defeating the puckerberry overlords.” 

“Uh…” Renjun looks dumbfounded. This is arguably Donghyuck’s favorite type of Renjun, because for once nothing smart’s coming out of his mouth. “And this is relevant, why?” 

“Because that’s what I feel like right now, asshole!” Donghyuck says, flicking one of Renjun’s nipples from over his shirt. “My guts are being rearranged into nothingness, and not the good kind!”

Donghyuck manages to escape in time, slinking away to the other side of the couch before he gets shoved to the floor. Renjun’s nipples are sensitive. It’s happened before. 

“Can’t I wear something more comfortable?” he whines. “I bought a new shirt last week and it has a decorative button. Fancy enough?” 

Renjun squints, rubs his temples, and sighs. Donghyuck almost considers modifying his contract and giving him an allowance. _Almost._

“The coronation customs have been around for far longer than I’ve been alive, Donghyuck. And I’m five centuries old,” he deadpans. “Unless you want an uprising on the night of your ascension, you’re gonna have to do exactly as your ancestors have—”

“And what’s that exactly?” Donghyuck asks, wiggling himself into a more comfortable position. “Suffocating to death?” 

“—taking your unholy oaths in the Church of Night, showing up to Pandemonium in your ceremonial garb, and officially taking the throne from your predecessor with your chosen escort.”

Donghyuck stops fidgeting, blood running cold, “Excuse me?” 

“Oh c’mon.” Renjun rolls his eyes, exasperated. “We’ve been over this a million times. Don’t act like this is new to you—” 

He gets cut off when Donghyuck stands way too fast, a wild look splattered on his face. “ _Escort_?” Donghyuck yells, eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets. “Whoever said anything about an escort!”

Renjun proceeds to say something about tradition and heritage and a primer he probably never bothered to read, but Donghyuck can’t hear him over the sound of his brain whirring a mile a minute. 

He feels his heart race out of his ribcage, and oh wow, great! This is certainly the best time to be stuck in a tight laced corset. 

Donghyuck tries his best to breathe and think. If his memory serves him right, his brother didn’t have anyone tailing him when he ascended the throne eons ago. 

“I can go stag...” he trails off, eyes willing Renjun to say yes. “Right?”

The look that Renjun sends him is solemn, and Donghyuck would have actually believed it was apologetic if it weren’t for the next words tumbling out of his mouth. 

“You were just bouncing on Mark’s dick an hour ago, were you not?” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Donghyuck spits out, lips twisting in distaste before he realizes, “Wait, you were there longer than you let on, weren’t you?” 

Renjun ignores the well-founded accusations and heads straight to the point.

“An heir can only go unescorted if they’re a virgin upon ascending the throne,” Renjun says as a matter of factly, glancing at Donghyuck from the corner of his eye. "Seeing as you have a lot of fun with your dyad of dicks on the regular, you are compelled by the rules of the Nether Realms to show up with what the mortals call, _a date_.” 

Before Donghyuck could get a word out, Renjun raises a hand. 

“I’m sure you already know—purity is just a social construct, _especially_ in Hell,” he says. “All of this is just a formality, really. Either one of your boys will do.”

“ _Either one of my boys_?” Donghyuck echoes, incredulous. He feels his eyes flash red. 

Donghyuck doesn’t know if it’s the lack of airflow or the stress of the coronation finally getting to his head, but he feels a little loopy—like Satan’s blood is rushing through his veins faster than normal. He huffs out a small chuckle at first, and before he knows it, he’s laughing out loud. 

“Do you think this is just a game, Renjun-ah?” 

He half-expects Renjun to snap back with something sharp like he normally does, but he doesn’t. How could he, when the ground starts to shake—tipping over the chalice sitting on the edge of the coffee table with a harsh clink, spilling something deathly red all over the marble floor?

A devilish grin spreads across Donghyuck’s face the moment Renjun realizes his mistake, eyes widening in terror and scrambling against the couch to create as much distance between him and Donghyuck. 

It’s too late. The lights dim and begin to flicker, harsh winds coming into the room from all directions. Donghyuck might be Renjun’s ward, but the power he wields over most demons in the Nether Realms is undeniable. 

“I’m only going to say this once and only once, so listen carefully,” Donghyuck whispers, fingertips tingling with the first prickles of flame. He waits for Renjun’s response—an audible gulp and a tiny, shaky nod, before continuing. 

“My boys are not options,” he says, unnervingly slow, before burning the tight corset off of his body. Its incinerated pieces fall to the floor like lightning, and Donghyuck smirks when Renjun flinches with his whole body. “They never are, and they never will be. Understood?” 

He knows it’ll take a beat before the words sink in—Donghyuck can hardly recognize his voice himself. But when it does, it’s obvious. Renjun nods repeatedly like a dashboard bobble head, joint loosened from the heat of the sun. 

“Good.” The flames in his hands extinguish themselves, and along with it, the rest of the room falls into a hush. Donghyuck makes a show of dusting the white dress shirt he was made to wear underneath all the boning, and hums in satisfaction. The fire did not scorch it at all. It even ironed it out. Nice! “I think we’re done here.” 

Renjun looks like he wants to speak, the tiny soot sprite that he is, trembling against the couch. Despite his initial irritation, Donghyuck has to suppress a laugh—this is _officially_ his favorite type of Renjun. 

“Bill the damages under my name,” Donghyuck says, saving Renjun from the possibility of pissing him off any further. “Have them send it to accounting.” 

“T-that’s not—” 

He doesn’t wait to hear the rest of it. “I’m going,” Donghyuck says, before vanishing into thin air. 

Final fitting be damned. 

🔮🌙🕯

Truth be told, Donghyuck is not the absolute asshole that his flame-producing outrage makes him out to be. 

When he’s not being needled by annoying demons who make him choose between his boyfriends, he spends his free time tutoring coursemates in Latin, helping out in animal shelters with Mark, and offering himself as free labor for whatever Johnny gets up to when he’s not teaching.

Even by pearly gates standards, Donghyuck likes to think he qualifies for a pretty decent guy! But all of that said, even decent guys have limits too, and all he can say is that Renjun’s eyebrows should consider themselves pretty lucky that Donghyuck attended an extra credit seminar on mindfulness and positive psychology last semester. 

Still, to exhibit that kind of restraint takes a lot out of Donghyuck. It’s already nightfall when he makes it back to the Academy, and his exhaustion shows in the way he drags his feet across the marble floor, steering himself as if on autopilot in the general direction of Johnny’s living quarters. 

All he wants to do right now is to reset his proverbial HP bar by drinking hot choco and snuggling with Johnny, but he realizes as he steps into the empty room that Mark told him to meet Johnny at Nakamoto’s, and not in bed. 

_Boo._

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turns a hundred eighty and stomps his way to the communal portals. Mindblowing sex aside, maybe today’s just not his lucky day. He allows himself a second to wallow in self-pity outside Nakamoto’s before finally pushing the double doors open. 

“ _Johnny_ ,” he whines as soon as he walks in. “Are you done? Can we go home now?” 

Donghyuck cranes his head back to look at his boyfriend, who seems smaller but somehow also taller than he remembers. It takes a second for him to realize that Johnny is on a step ladder, palms stretched out to the high heavens in what looks like an attempt to make friends with Yuta’s ceiling. 

“Oh hey, baby.” Johnny smiles, swinging down a couple of rungs. “How was the fitting?” 

Donghyuck can’t hide his distaste, even when Johnny leans down from the ladder to press a kiss on his forehead. 

“Terrible, thanks for asking,” he groans. “They put me in a corset made out of phalanges. Which is fine, honestly, except I don’t think they factored in the joints. I couldn’t fucking breathe.” 

“Mhm, never heard you complain about that one before?” Johnny laughs. 

“Oh, shut up.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “You can choke me all you want _after_ the coronation. I wanna at least be able to eat what they serve at the party.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Johnny chuckles.

“That would be you,” Donghyuck pouts, tugging at Johnny’s sleeve. “So let’s go?” 

His pout turns into a full fledged frown when Johnny only sucks air through his teeth, before cocking his head to say, “Not for a while, babe. I’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” 

Before Donghyuck could even begin to ask what that meant, a long muffled scream comes hurtling through the air. Donghyuck would be more terrified if Johnny didn’t look so unperturbed, shouting back an exasperated, “Yes, I heard that!” into the void before stepping off of the ladder completely. 

“That—” Johnny waves his hand in the general direction of the back rooms. “—would be Yuta.” 

“What’s wrong with him?” Donghyuck mumbles. He looks around to see if anyone else is finding this weird, but finds that the club is completely empty. 

He’d apparently been on Johnny Suh horse blinders this entire time that he didn’t notice the usual sounds of glass clinking and jazzy tunes missing from the air. The Huang Brothers and their usual harem of conquests are absent from the far end of the room, and even the bar is completely unmanned. 

Johnny sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

“The paintings have been complaining that the sex dungeon’s sound proofing has worn down over the last century. They threatened to poison the beer tap if Yuta doesn’t cooperate, and so here we are.” 

“Sounds like a him problem,” Donghyuck sniffs, not really caring. He just wants to go home and cuddle with Johnny. “Can we go now?” 

“I’m afraid that won’t do, princeling,” says a voice from behind them. Donghyuck turns to see Yuta strutting towards them with an eerily pleased look on his face. “Johnny’s stuck here until the new spells are in place.” 

“The old ones have really worn down, Yuta,” Johnny clicks his tongue. “If I can hear you scream from up here, I get why the paintings are rioting.”

“Shame. They are not the voyeurs that I thought they were when I hung them up there,” Yuta says, poking a tongue through his cheek. “But you better start getting to work. I need to be open tomorrow for all the sad motherfuckers not invited to Donghyuck’s coronation.” 

“Woah, wait a second,” Donghyuck says, hands flying up in the air. “I’m really sorry you have to deal with all of that, hyung. But I _really_ need Johnny tonight. So if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be going ahead.” 

Donghyuck takes Johnny’s hand in his and begins stomping away. He absolutely can’t wait to tell Johnny all about the hot mess that transpired over the fitting room, but he only gets about two steps in before he gets drawn back by nothing else but Johnny’s own rootedness to the floor. 

He gasps, eyes wide. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“It’s a lifetime supply of Raven’s Brew,” Johnny reasons, as if it were a valid excuse. Donghyuck groans in frustration because truth be told, that’s actually a pretty good deal! Johnny’s bougie coffee is expensive!

He narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Who’s lifetime are we talking about here?” Donghyuck asks, suspicious. 

“A dying prisoner’s, originally.” Yuta sighs his disappointment. “But turns out Johnny knows to read the fine print _within_ the fine print, so he’s all good.”

Donghyuck huffs in pride. That’s right. No boyfriend of his will be subject to terrible deals with immortal warlocks. Something tells him to give Mark a crash course on that soon. But still, “How long will this take?” 

“At least an hour from the looks of it,” Johnny says, mirroring Donghyuck’s disappointment. He thumbs tenderly at the side of Donghyuck’s face. “You don’t have to wait up for me. Rest up in my quarters and I’ll be there in no time.” 

An hour doesn’t seem like no time to Donghyuck—that’s sixty whole minutes, not even counting the give or take! And to be honest, he’d much rather stay here while Johnny works for his stimulant of choice than be alone in the cold, unloving arms of Johnny’s room, Tempurpedic mattress or not. 

He’s considering ordering a plate of fries and just sitting this one through when Yuta opens his mouth, the look in his eyes sending Donghyuck on high alert. 

“Or you can help him!” Yuta says, clasping his hands together like he just had the greatest idea in the world. “That way you can get your boyfriend back in half the time, and everyone leaves happy.” 

Donghyuck scoffs at the pearly grin spreading like wildfire across Yuta’s face. He knows that look. There’s no way Yuta’s suggesting this out of sheer goodwill. He raises a perfectly waxed brow, “What’s in it for me?” 

“You literally get Johnny back faster. Isn’t that enough?” 

“It’s not,” Donghyuck says, before turning to Johnny saying, “No offense, babe.” 

Johnny, having seen him drive hard bargains countless times before, only smiles and says, “None taken,” like the gentleman that he is. Donghyuck internally swoons. 

“You’re obviously getting something out of this,” Donghyuck continues, crossing his arms. “At least make it fair.” 

That’s rich, coming from him. Yuta probably thinks so too, if his eye roll is anything to go by, but he tries all the same. “May I interest you in some Raven’s Brew?”

“No thanks, I have a Nespresso machine.” 

“How about a bottle of Angel’s blood, sweet and freshly harvested?” 

Donghyuck scrunches his nose in disgust. He never understood the hype. “I’ll have to pass. Anything else?” 

“Satan, it’s useless striking deals with you both,” Yuta grumbles, looking so put out that Donghyuck almost feels sorry for him. It can’t be easy to find something that would interest him. He’s literally the King of Hell effective tomorrow night. “How about this, I _owe_ you.” 

“Huh.” That finally catches Donghyuck’s attention. A blank IOU from Nakamoto Yuta? “You must want this more than I thought.”

“Look, I have an esteemed guest scheduled for a dungeon session tonight, and I really don’t wanna cancel it,” Yuta says, glances at the grandfather clock ticking ominously by the wall and pursing his lips. “So are you in or not?” 

Donghyuck feels the familiar pricklings of flame grace his fingertips before he can even utter a word. Johnny gives him a sideways glance and laughs. 

No son of Satan can ever pass up a good deal. 

🔮🌙🕯

Donghyuck slowly comes around to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. 

It’s none of that fancy nitro shit that Johnny pours half of his teaching salary into, but a cup of honest to goodness city roast that never fails to seduce him out of the dream state. He blinks awake just in time to see Johnny coming in—decidedly shirtless, praise Satan—with a cup in each hand and a gorgeous smile on his lips.

“Morning baby,” Johnny says, a knee on the mattress as he leans in to press a kiss on Donghyuck’s nose. 

Donghyuck makes grabby hands at the cuppa and takes a gratuitous sip, stewing in silence for but a moment before pressing a proper, caffeinated kiss onto Johnny’s lips. “Morning.” 

As it turns out, soundproofing Yuta’s sex dungeon is not a walk in the park, even for the two most powerful warlocks in the realm. By the time they were done making sure that the paintings were appeased and would leave the beer tap alone, Donghyuck only had enough energy to slip into Johnny’s old Academy shirt before passing out face first on the bed. 

Ah. That would explain the shirtlessness, but Donghyuck’s not the least bit sorry about that. 

“Glad to see you’re in better spirits,” Johnny says, leaning against the headboard. “Yesterday seemed pretty rough on you.” 

“Not sure if rough is the right word.” Donghyuck stretches his neck groaning in relief when the air bubbles pop. “But let’s just say Astaroth’s will have to reupholster one of their fitting rooms very soon.” 

Johnny chuckles behind the lip of his cup before setting it down. “What did Renjun do this time?” he asks, lacing his fingers with Donghyuck’s in fondness. 

The small gesture reminds Donghyuck of how often Mark giggles when he’s being snarky, and he can’t help but conclude that, _wow,_ they really do adore him despite his mean streak. They might even love him _for_ it. How could he ever choose between his boys? 

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck says, blowing hair off of his face. His mind’s still a bit of a mess, and he doesn’t quite know where to start. “He was just being really annoying, I guess?”

“But Renjun’s always—”

“Annoying to me. Yes, I know. And normally, I’d just annoy him right back, but this time he pushed a button, you know?” Donghyuck holds his breath for a few seconds, and then lets it all out. “Did you know I needed an escort for tonight?”

Johnny doesn’t respond immediately and that’s how Donghyuck understands that he knows. He doesn’t take it against him. Johnny is a learned man, an assistant professor of Conjuring at the Academy of Unseen Arts. He knows witch tradition like the back of his hand and unlike Donghyuck, he’s exactly the type of person who reads primers. 

None of this is his fault, but still he treads the next few seconds with exceptional caution. 

“Yeah I did,” Johnny says, finally. His voice is clipped, like he’s careful the wrong inflection might cause Donghyuck to call forth Hellfire. “Took me a while to realize you weren’t taking your time with the decision but that you just didn’t know, _like at all._ ” 

A wet laugh startles itself out of Donghyuck’s throat. “That sounds like me alright, I never know what goes on around here,” he says. “But somehow, I feel like if I had known earlier, I’d be nowhere nearer to a definite choice than I am now.” 

“Hearing that makes me really happy, actually,” Johnny says, smiling as he thumbs circles at the back of Donghyuck’s hand. “But truth be told, I don’t think I mind whichever choice you make. What we have between the three of us is bigger than a walk down the aisle.”

The irony isn’t lost on Donghyuck, who knows full well the implications of _a walk down the aisle_ for people on the other side of the realm. 

This is Johnny giving him a free pass to choose Mark, not only as a courtesy call since he’s going to be the last to know, but also because he’s not from their world and might give a lot more meaning to a simple _formality_ , as Renjun so precisely put it. 

This plan of action makes an awful lot of sense to Donghyuck, too, but it doesn’t make the choice any easier. They had all agreed against hierarchies at the beginning of this relationship, and choosing one over the other by necessity feels suspiciously like cheating it even if it’s not. 

“This sucks,” is all Donghyuck says. He wraps a hand around his rapidly cooling cup of coffee before chugging it down in one go. He smacks his lips and repeats, “This _really fucking_ sucks.”

“I hope you don’t mean the coffee,” Johnny chuckles, plucking the mug off of Donghyuck’s hand before leaning in to press a tender kiss on his temple. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this, baby.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” Donghyuck groans, shoving his face into Johnny’s warm shoulder. “The mood’s all heavy now.”

“I’m sure that can be fixed,” Johnny asks, laughing in this beautiful, full-bodied sound that makes Donghyuck feel fuzzy and warm. “Permission to kiss it better, my King?” 

Donghyuck is but a simple man, how can he refuse? 

“Permission granted,” he whispers, smiling before he leans in and catches Johnny between his lips. 

🔮🌙🕯

  
  


The rest of the day rolls out pretty easily for Donghyuck, if not a little too uneventful compared to the mess of the day before. 

After they manage to untangle their limbs from a sweaty—and for Donghyuck in particular, _breathless_ —heap from the bed, they hop into Johnny’s sprawling bathroom for a quick shower before Johnny has to head out for a short faculty meeting at noon. 

“This could have been an email, I swear to Satan,” Johnny grumbled, before leaving a chaste kiss on Donghyuck’s lips. “See you in a bit,” he says, before apparating away. 

That leaves Donghyuck with all the time in the world to do his tiny little errands in peace, first of which involves getting proper food in his tummy after all the energy he burned so early in the day. 

At first he considers going down to Nakamoto’s for those fries he never got to have last night, but opts to get a classic burger-milkshake combo from Dr. Qian’s diner instead. 

The place has a special place in Donghyuck’s heart because it’s where the three of them had their first date. Dr. Qian’s husband Ten, keeps an interesting collection of hard to find Spellman manuscripts in a glamoured corner that Johnny positively fell in love with at first sight. Nearer to the entrance on the other hand, are rows upon rows of Marvel comic books for Spiderman aficionados like Mark. 

Donghyuck’s there mostly for the grub, but to say that he doesn’t enjoy seeing both his boys enjoy themselves in the same place would definitely be a lie. 

With that said, he feels a little off visiting the diner without Johnny or Mark by his side. He sends in an order for express delivery instead and only hopes the transport doesn’t spill his milkshake. 

When the food finally comes, Donghyuck takes it upon himself to astral project into Mark’s room if only to make sure he’s awake in time to edit and submit one of his requirements due tonight. 

Before Johnny left, Donghyuck asked him one last time just to be sure, if he was really okay with him taking Mark. Johnny repeated the same answer he’s been telling Donghyuck all this time, “Yes, I’m sure baby,” before suggesting to talk Mark through it while they studied.

“You really have to eat in front of me?” Mark asks, stomach growling once he sees Donghyuck’s apparition. Donghyuck only laughs into his burger and tells him it’s his fault for waking up past noon. Eventually, Mark yields and orders himself a Combo C as well.

They work together mostly in companionable silence; Donghyuck doing his text translations while Mark double-checks his code. It’s a lot like being on Skype, Mark used to say, and it works for a while until Mark looks up from his laptop with furrowed brows, and asks him what’s wrong. 

“What are you talking about?” Donghyuck replies automatically. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Mark gives him a pointed look. “Yeah, and I’m a vampire,” he says. “You’ve been too quiet, Hyuck. Are you okay?” 

Donghyuck sighs. He had been waiting until Mark was truly free before bringing him up to speed with what he discussed with Johnny, but it seems like Mark has other ideas. He reaches for his milkshake and takes an obnoxiously loud sip to stall, before saying, “It’s about tonight.” 

Immediately, Mark shuts his laptop close and directs all his attention on him. “Are you getting cold feet?”

“What? No!” Donghyuck squawks. “It’s not like that. It’s just—tonight’s a formal event, and turns out I kinda needed a date?”

“Okay...” Mark says, slowly as if to digest the information. “Do you want to take Johnny?” 

“No! Wait, I do! I mean—fuck. This isn’t coming out right,” he says. Of course Mark would arrive at that conclusion considering how nervous he’s been. Donghyuck groans at his inability to get it together, and takes a deep breath. “Look, I’d go with both of you if I could.”

“But you can’t, right?” Mark asks gingerly. Donghyuck sees no judgment in his face when he says, “I get it. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“The thing is, I was actually wondering if you’d go with me?” Donghyuck asks, worrying his bottom lip when Mark doesn’t respond and just _stares_. “I mean, it’s not much. Technically you’d just have to walk with me and maybe… dance? You know what, it’s not really a big dea—”

“Hyuck.”

Donghyuck clamps his jaw shut. He sees Mark’s fingers twitch slightly, as if wanting to reach out but remembering at the last minute that he’s not actually there. 

“I’d be honored if you’ll have me.” Mark says, reverently.

“ _Oh_ ,” is all Donghyuck manages to say. The beginnings of a smile crawls upon Mark’s face when he continues, “Oh, okay. Uhm, that’s great. Thanks?” 

Mark laughs and the sound of it hits Donghyuck like a ton of bricks. He’s suddenly filled with many different shades of relief. One for Mark saying yes. One for getting the words out there at all. One for Mark not thinking he’s deceitful. Wait, Mark doesn’t think that does he?

“Hey, Hyuck. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s okay.” Donghyuck looks into Mark’s eyes and tries to ground himself to them. He’s gonna be okay. “Did you think I could ever say no to you?”

“I mean, there’s that,” Donghyuck says, quietly. “But also, I just didn’t want you to think I was going through this behind your back. I just found out yesterday, too, and I kinda just… I didn’t wanna choose at all.”

“That’s fair.” Mark nods. “For the record, that ‘going behind my back thing’ didn’t even cross my mind at all. Thank you for telling me though. Must be a weird spot to be in.” 

“It sucks,” he says, echoing his words from earlier today because there’s no better word to encompass this situation. “I already talked to Johnny about it of course, and he’s all for it. But it still makes me feel a little slimy, you know? Like I’m disrespecting our rules.” 

“We just have to take his word for it, ‘kay?” Mark reassures. “If Johnny says he’s alright, then we’ve gotta trust that he’s alright. I think he understands more than anyone that you didn’t want this.”

He swallows thickly, but nods. That makes sense. “Yeah.” 

“And if you’re still ruffled about it by the end of the night,” Mark smirks, a hint of suggestiveness in his voice. “I can just help you ‘make it up to him,’ yeah?”

Donghyuck can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his throat at that. “For real,” he says. “Who are you and what have you done with Mark Lee?” 

🔮🌙🕯

After the call, there really wasn’t much else for Donghyuck to do besides hang around and wait for the ceremonies to start. He knows he should stay still and sit pretty until someone comes to fetch him for prep—preferably not Renjun, but he’s still buzzing with so much energy after getting that conversation out of the way that if he stayed in campus a minute longer, he’d go mad before he even became King. 

That’s usually not how it goes. Trust him, he’s watched Game of Thrones before. 

With that said, Donghyuck decides to reward himself for surviving the most tiresome 24 hours of his short life by heading out to do some retail therapy. There’s nothing quite like blowing money on a new fit to soothe the soul, but alas! The day has been going suspiciously well. He knew something would pop his precious bubble sooner or later and it goes something like this: 

After a Jamba Juice and round of window shopping, Donghyuck finally enters Adidas but knows right away that something is afoot. 

No one comes to greet him, which is—yes, egotistical, but also—strange, since he’s friends with all the staff here, trainees included. Instead of a warm welcome though, he only hears the light buzz of the neon lights overhead, flickering on and off for a couple seconds before fizzling out completely. 

He looks around. _Not a single damn soul in sight._ Donghyuck looks back to find the rest of the mall completely empty as well. Fuck. 

The Devil has set foot in Apgujeong Rodeo. Donghyuck surmises it was only a matter of time. 

“Doyoung, stop hiding between the new releases,” Donghyucks groans, stepping fully into the store. “They’ll smell like you and then I have to buy all of them to save the mortal public from the ghastly stench.” 

There’s faint rustling and a scoff among the hangers, then Donghyuck blinks to see his brother appear before his very eyes. He’s decked out in a sharp suit of red and black, not unlike what Donghyuck himself was supposed to wear tonight had he not burned the rest of his ensemble into ashes. _Oops._

“I’d get used to the smell of smoke if I were them,” Doyoung says, chin raised. “Hell is where they’ll all end up anyways, especially with these. . . what—what even are these? Cotton polyester blends?” he spits out, yanking a shirt off of the racks. “Really, Donghyuck? This is what you burned couture for?” 

That is not, in fact, what Donghyuck burned couture for. 

“Is that what Renjun told you?” Donghyuck scoffs. Leave it up to the tiny demon to leave out the most crucial part of the story. In hindsight, he really should have burned his eyebrows off. 

“What else would he tell me?”

“Fine, let’s go with that then,” he says, not wanting to have to explain any further. “Why is it such a crime to want to breathe during my own coronation? Some people like to keep their kinks hidden from the public eye, you know?” 

Doyoung groans, his royal facade cracking into the face of the older brother Donghyuck has spent a better part of his childhood tormenting. Donghyuck cracks a grin. If he’s going to be needled again then he might as well make it fun. 

“Will you stop being a gremlin for a hot minute?” Doyoung yells, the graphic tee in his hands disintegrating into ashes without so much as a flicker of light. Even Donghyuck has to admit that was pretty cool. “No one wants to see you pop a boner, trust me. But I can’t just let you parade around in Hell wearing gym clothes!”

“And why the fuck not?” Donghyuck asks, baffled. “You’re literally the King of Hell. No one would dare question you unless they want to be barbecued on a stick!” 

“It might be Hell, but there are standards to uphold around here!” Doyoung shouts back, completely unperturbed that they’re having an argument in the middle of an Adidas. “Do you think they’d continue to cower in fear if you just walked in wearing slides?”

“ _Please_ ,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, hand on his hips. “Your snooty little lords and ladies would drop to their knees if they ever saw my royal feet. Plus, you’re only saying this because you don’t know how hot I can look in a bomber jacket.”

“I don’t care about your damn jackets!” Doyoung wails, hands flying in the air. “You’re a Lee! Act like it. If your mother was here to see this she’d be appalled!” 

“Well it’s a good thing my mom’s stuck in a painting at Nakamoto’s then, huh?” Donghyuck huffs. “And for your information, she loves Adidas. But you wouldn’t know that since you can’t step foot in that club without your face burning like the second circle of Hell!” 

“Wh—what!” _Jackpot,_ Donghyuck grins. “I can visit Nakamoto’s just fine!”

“Oh yeah?” Donghyuck always had his suspicions, but the beat that Doyoung missed in between stammers just confirmed it. “When was the last time you went? Bet it’s been _ages._ ” 

“I was literally there last night,” Doyoung says, way too proud of his own answer. Little did he know he walked right into a trap. 

Donghyuck can’t help but laugh. It’s always way too easy to bait his brother. 

Doyoung’s face flickers into a myriad of different expressions before settling on sheer bewilderment. “What’s so funny?” 

“Hyung,” Donghyuck starts, trying to get his reply in order in between huffs. “Nakamoto’s was closed last night for repairs. Johnny and I helped soundproof the dungeon for Yuta’s _esteemed guest,_ ” he says, putting in air quotes for dramatics.

No further words are required for Doyoung to catch his drift, ears burning red as he sputters in a mix of embarrassment and indignation. “What—”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to judge what you get up to in your free time. But I’ll tell you what, if you just let me—” he waves his hands around vaguely, “—do my own thing, be King on my own terms, I’ll get you a date with Nakamoto Yuta. How about it?” 

This time it’s Doyoung’s turn to laugh. A flat, dead sound. 

“You’re a different kind of stupid if you think I’d fall for a cheap trick like that,” he says. “Everyone knows Yuta turns everyone down. A drink? Maybe, if he wants you as a prisoner. But a date? Out of the question, statistically impossible.”

“And how do you know this?” Donghyuck raises a brow. 

“Cause I actually tried, okay?” Doyoung says, a frown on his face. He doesn’t seem to mind giving a tell-all now that the cat’s out of the bag. “He turned me down, and I’m the King of Hell!” 

“Well maybe you just suck at negotiations,” Donghyuck says, nonchalantly. “I knew there was a reason you’re stepping down the throne, and it’s because you can’t even strike deals with hot bartenders!” 

“I told you, I’m going on a sabbatical!” Doyoung exclaims, his voice is almost a whine. “Also you can’t shit on me for things you can’t do yourself.” 

“First of all,” Donghyuck says, lifting a finger to drive his point. “I’m not sure we’re allowed to be on sabbatical, hyung. The heavens would lose it. And second, who’s to say I haven’t struck a deal with him already?”

Doyoung just stares at him as he waits for the punchline, eyes growing wide in disbelief when seconds pass and he realizes it’s not going to come. Donghyuck actually has a deal with Nakamoto Yuta, but even he himself can’t quite believe it too.

“You’re shitting me,” Doyoung deadpans. 

“I’m actually not,” Donghyuck says, raising both hands in innocence. “You can look it up the system yourself.”

Doyoung does exactly that, narrowing his eyes at his little brother as he pulls up his phone to double check. 

All deals made between creatures, mortal or not, are written their own unholy contracts in Hell. It disappears as soon as it’s completed and acknowledged by the concerned parties, but stacks up as punishment when unmet, should the creature eventually land down in the pits.

Doyoung’s made a pretty good system for himself, but it’s going to take more than a couple of seconds of scrolling through the N→L category considering how many promises are made all over the world every single day. Donghyuck takes this time to sift through the racks. 

“A blank contract?” Doyoung yells after a while, his eyes popping out of their sockets in disbelief. He walks his way to the mirror where Donghyuck’s torn between a red bomber and a smarter, black windbreaker. “How in hell did you manage that?” 

“Hyung, you gotta give yourself more credit,” is all Donghyuck replies, holding up alternating outerwear in front of his figure. “Red or black?” 

“Red’s prettier,” Doyoung absentmindedly responds, before belatedly catching the first part of that statement. “Wait, what do you mean more credit?” 

“Have you ever considered the fact that maybe _you're_ worth a blank contract, hmm?” 

“What does that even mea—”

“Don’t worry about it too much.” Donghyuck returns the black windbreaker back onto the rack. He doesn’t have to look smart. That’s Johnny’s aesthetic. Donghyuck exists to be hot. “You’ll figure it all out when finally go on that date, which you’ll have _if_ you let me do whatever I want at the coronation,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “What do you say, hyung? A blank for a blank?” 

Donghyuck doesn’t wait for his brother’s response before sauntering away to the counter, a victorious smirk on his lips. 

Doyoung is a son of Satan, too, which means Donghyuck has already won. 

🔮🌙🕯

It smells like smoke. 

Donghyuck doesn’t know if it’s the remnants of good intentions that paved the road on which he stands, or just Taeyong’s pot roast going up in flames in Hell's kitchen. Either way, it feels a little damning, and for once in his life—despite the flame of the great furnace he calls his home, Donghyuck feels he might actually be getting cold feet. 

He stares at his reflection on the double doors and fights the urge to run a hand through his hair. 

Despite their little incident, Renjun had worked extremely hard to achieve this impossible coiffure, a tousle worthy for a crown to rest upon. The rest of him looks pretty good too—Damascus lace repurposed into chains around his neck, Doyoung’s vote of confidence fiery red on his shoulders—but he can’t help but wonder if his future constituents would think the same. 

“Are you nervous?” Mark asks, coming up to his side. “Don’t be.” 

“He really wasn’t, until you said that,” Johnny replies. 

Donghyuck’s laughter comes in swinging from the left field, and slowly, he feels his nerves begin to ebb away. Mark and Johnny take their respective positions on either side of him, slipping their fingers between his in a tether across worlds. 

A great lightning strikes, and after that, the ground begins to rumble. Right before the doors open, Donghyuck catches a final glimpse of their reflection on the mirror. He wonders why he was ever scared at all. 

After all, the devil wears three stripes. One for him, and another for hell and high water. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not used to writing lighthearted, banter-centric fics at all so I'd love to hear what you all thought! Kudos and comments appreciated! 
> 
> 11/24 edit: dy's suit used to be white and baby blue like in the year party but arrival ver. just came out and whew okay red and black it is. 
> 
> You can also reach me through [twt](https://twitter.com/whitenoisce) or [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/whitenoisce) if you want!


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